Legion
by Warmth of Courage
Summary: <html><head></head>A new power has arisen to try and bring peace, justice, and order to Thedas. The Legion has changed the world for the better of some, and for the worse of others. With such goals, they undoubtedly attract enemies. After a tragic ambush, Adahlen finds himself in the company of many great heroes and must leave his beloved Legion to save Thedas. -Rated T for now, but may change to M.</html>
1. Ambush

I do not own the ideas of Dragon Age, any of the Dragon Age characters, locations, or other specifics. The only parts of this story that are mine are the OC charactres and "The Legion". Also this story itself is of my creation.

Chapter 1:

A small band of warriors marched on a road running along the Wounded Coast, their black armor glinting like obsidian in what little sunlight broke through the clouds. Their red tunics and cloaks were tattered and stained from months or years of combat. Some wielded swords and shields, one brandished a sword as tall and menacing as the warrior themself, a two wielded bows with a plethora of arrows in their quivers, and one brandished a long staff with a blade on the end. They numbered about ten, and moved at a speed that would shame a cavalry unit. they came to a pass which was blocked with burning wagons and wooden palisades. The soldiers cautiously approached until a figure appeared from behind the wagon. It was a man of average stature, wearing a masked leather helmet, in a brown jerkin, and brown leather boots. the man gestured to the area he came from, and ten archers appeared and drew their bows, with flaming arrows.

"Tortescai(Tortoise)!", shouted the man wielding his staff as he brought it to a ready position. Six of the soldiers formed a dome with their shields, and the other soldiers taking cover within. The flaming arrows flew at the dome, and a series of thuds sounded from the dome.

"Legionnaires, Advante(Advance)!", the man commanded and the dome began to shuffle along the sand of the pass. More arrows continued to impact upon the shields, either bouncing off or embedding into the shields. As the dome drew closer, the bandit leader signalled again, and ten more bandits came out and charged the dome, as well as those who had been firing arrows.

"Bulwark!", again was shouted from the dome and the soldiers opened up and formed a line with their shields stretching from one side of the path to the other. To the left of the soldiers was a high, steep cliff, and on their right was a cliff leading down to the sea, and up ahead the path turned left into a gulley up ahead. The bandits then threw themselves against the wall, hoping that their momentum and weight would collapse their line and separate the soldiers. However, the soldiers in black were very well trained, and the line was held. The bandits continued to push against the shield wall, but to no avail.

"Am!" was said again by the man in the staff who stood behind the shield wall with the two soldiers with bows and the one with the giant sword. With one mighty push, the shield wall repulsed the horde of bandits, and then the soldiers readied themselves. The shields opened, the soldiers lowered their swords to waist height, and then slammed the shields back together into the wall. There was a very short moment of hesitation, but then the bandits threw themselves at the wall again. The soldiers impaled and cut a few bandits down before they pushed the bandits away again. This time, the two middle soldier knelt and then the warrior with the giant sword jumped over them and charged the bandits. The two archers also began to fire arrows at a remarkable speed and then the man with the staff also vaulted over the two soldiers and barked, "Legionnaires, Assaultum(Assault)!", and then he charged the bandits as well. The soldiers behind him began to advance at a jogging pace the archers keeping behind them. The man with the staff bludgeoned and slashed at some of the bandits, and once he was able he cast a fireball from his left hand towards the burning carts. The carts exploded, and splinters tore through a few bandits, but the splinters bounced off of the black armor of the soldiers.

Once the soldiers had felled a total of twelve bandits, the others began to flee back and down into the gully. The soldiers all gave chase and when they descended upon what they thought was the remainder of the bandits, they learned they had walked into a trap. New wagons appeared behind them, and were turned over. The cliffs of the gully was then lined with many archers, but they were not like the bandits they had just routed. These people wore bright silver armor, with the crest of a flaming sword on their breastplates. They were templars, knights of the Chantry that are used as a military force. Then, many templars with drawn swords and readied shields joined the bandits in a charge at the soldiers in black, as the archers began a barrage of arrows. The first of the soldiers to fall were the two archers, both receiving several arrows into their chests. Soon, another soldier was down, receiving an arrow in his knee before three templars thrust their swords into him, but not until the soldier had also run a templar through.

The soldier wielding the bladed staff summoned his strength to erect a magical barrier around the remaining soldiers, but the templars train to disrupt spells and do so very well. With the last of his mana drained, the staff wielding soldier prepared to make a final stand, spinning his staff to deflect a few arrows and then to slash a charging templar. As he looked around, he saw several more of his fellow soldiers fall to templar blades. As his party drew close to be exterminated, he was beset upon by a templar wielding a great axe. He raised his staff to block the attack, and as the axe impacted, it shattered his staff. He then stumbled backwards, and with his sharpened gauntlets; the fingers resembling that of dragon's claws, and he cut across the crook of his elbow. As the blood seeped out of the cut, he drew the strength from the magic in his blood, and from the shadow of the eye slits of his helmet, a red glow began to shine from underneath. The charging templar stopped in his tracks, and all the templars began to draw their focus to the soldier.

He removed his helmet, revealing short, messy black hair. He was scruffy, with deep black stubble all across his face. His features marked him as human, but there was also something completely unhuman about him.

"I am Legion.", he said, and raised his hands. All the templars were then lifted off their feet, dropping their weapons, and being levitated in the air in a giant sphere.

"Many are one.", he said and clenched his. This sent the templars hurtling towards each other, and they all smashed against one another into a tightly packed ball. He then pounded his fist into the ground, and the mass of bodies did the same.

"And one stands for the many.", he uttered before sinking to his knees and the passing out on the ground.

A short while later he had a vision. He lay amongst his dead and wounded comrades, none of the wounded being conscious and the only sign they were alive was the slight sounds of their breathing. Amongst them was a halla, a breed of elk domesticated by the nomadic elvhen. Legion could barely open his eyes, and he could only see what his eyes focused his eyes on. The halla softly approached Legion, and then stood over him. It bent it's head, then sniffed his self-inflicted wound on his arm. Upon raising its head, the halla began to shine with a bright light as it then transformed into an elf. She wore a deep green tunic, with chainmail underneath. She also had a green silk scarf wrapped around her neck, but wore no shoes or boots. Instead, over her chainmail pants, she wore leather greaves that went from her mid-thigh and covered the top of her feet. She knelt down and felt around Legion's neck for a pulse.

"Hawke! Anders! Come quick!", she shouted. Her voice was mixed with urgency, but also relief. After that was said, the last he remembered before losing consciousness again was feeling the elf's cool hands press on his forehead.

Legion awoke to hear the sounds of a crackling fire. No longer was he lying amidst the blood and sand, but on a sleep mat inside a small tent. He was not in his armor anymore, but he still wore his tattered red tunic and had on black pants. He saw his armor on an armor stand, along with his tattered and stained cloak and stained and worn boots, but he could not find his staff. He pulled on his boots, and then exited the tent. When he exited, he saw the fire was in the middle of a circle of tents. Around the fire stood four figures. Two were men, and judging by the staves on their backs, they were probably mages. The third was a dwarf, sitting on a stump lubricating and polishing the mechanisms on his large crossbow. And the final figure was an elf, shorter and slighter than the humans, but still much taller than the dwarf. Judging by the silhouette that stood by the fire, he guessed she was the elf he saw in his state of delirium. As he drew closer, they became aware of his presence and ceased their mumblings.

"Hello there, I didn't expect to see you conscious for days yet, let alone walking around.", said one of the humans, who had dusty orange hair that was mostly pulled back into a short ponytail. His eyebrows and facial hair were darker, almost a brown. he wore a black leather coat and raven feather pauldrons.

"You could at least be a little optimistic Anders," said the other human, also a man, but with shorter messy black hair, a beard and goatee, and amber eyes. "after all, I don't remember seeing that many dead templars since Kirkwall."

"Which time in Kirkwall Hawke?", said the dwarf whose hair was similar to mage, Anders', only it was a more copperish hugh. He had short stubble of the same tone on his face, and gold earrings on both ears. "Was it when those Qunari invaded, when we broke into their dungeon, or when Anders here began this grand rebellion?"

"Oh but isn't this a lovely experience Varric?", said the elf. She had short hair, black as coal and glistening like water in the moonlight. "I really do love being out here amongst the trees again, the Alienage is only so tolerable. Oh! You probably don't know who we are. I'm so sorry!", she said in a sort of rambling apology.

"Its alright Daisy, why don't you introduce us to the man?", the dwarf said harnessing his crossbow.

"Oh that's a wonderful idea Varric!", she said, "Well, this is Varric Tethras. He's a dwarf, but I guess that's obvious, isn't it? The one over there in fluffy feather outfit is Ander's, and he's… a little different. Not in the bad way! And this is Hawke, he's the Champion of Kirkwall. I'm Merrill, and I am one of the Dalish elves, but I left my people almost seven years ago. I've been travelling with Hawke ever since.", she finished. "What's your name?"

"I gave mine up a long time ago. It's been fifteen year's since I've had a name last.", Legion said, and he wasn't lying.

Legion's memory, although he is twenty five, only starts fifteen years ago. He remembers coming out of the Deep Roads, once part of the magnificent dwarven empires underground now ruled by the darkspawn, evil creatures who spread an incurable plague and whose only purpose is the murdering of all other life. He remembers coming from an exit of the Deep Roads, covered in blood with a sword and shield in hand. Since then he has founded a multi-racial army only known as The Legion. They began about five years after he had come out of the Deep Roads with only a single cohort, but their numbers grew to a total of six legions, each numbering at least five hundred. The Legion is known for being an extremely disciplined fighting force, using cohesive formation fighting as opposed to the standard chaotic fighting styles of the day. The Legions marched throughout the different nations of Thedas; Fereldan, Orlais, Antiva, Rivian, Tevinter, The Free Marches, Par Vollen, and Amaranthine. They never lost a large battle.

"Oh don't be silly,", the elf said, "what do people call you?"

"I am sometimes called 'Legion', but I don't think that is what you meant."

"Well, I'll give you a name. How about… Adahlen(Forest)?", said the quirky little elf.

"Forest?", he said, "Why do you pick the elvhen word for forest?"

"How do you know the language of the elvhen? And because your eyes remind me of the leaves of the Brecilian Forest, where I spent most of my life. Also, when we found you, you were amongst a forest of splinters when I found you."

"A forest of splinters?", Adahlen asked.

"Oh, about that…", Hawke chimed in, "Your staff was found broken, the wooden handle was shattered. We were able to recover most of it, but not enough to repair it. I'm sorry." Hawke then pulled out a large leather spread, and unrolled it on the ground, revealing shattered pieces of wood, along with two large pieces of steel, and many smaller shards. Adahlen knelt and examined that, indeed, his staff was no more.

"Did any other's survive?", asked Adahlen with a sigh.

"Yes, there were four others of your kind who survived the attack. They are all resting.", said Anders, bringing out a much larger, and heavier leather spread. "These are the weapons of those whom did not survive.

Adahlen quickly unrolled the spread and discovered two bows, from his archers. He then saw three, single-handed blades.

"Where the shields?", he asked.

"Those are inside the tents your comrades are resting in.", Varric said, motioning to a nearby tent. "In fact, I think one of them is awake now by the looks of it."

From the tent stepped out a small, slightly built women, with jaw-length hair that was amber red. Adahlen immediately recognized her as his second-in-command, Valkyria. Valkyria was the soldier who wielded the giant greatsword, which was a little taller than her. She was one of the earlier recruits of the Legion, when they had found her in Fereldan amidst many darkspawn corpses, even a large Ogre being struck down nearby. It had been nearly ten years since that day. Once she had looked both ways, and then turned to look before her, her eyes widened at the sight of Adahlen.

"Commander… Did we die? Why is it so blighted cold?", she said, manners not being a priority for her.

"Captain, if we had died, you'd not notice it was cold.", he said with a smirk. "You should go rest Captain, I think we are in good hands tonight."

"Why do you say that, sir?"

"Captain, allow me to introduce Serah Hawke, Champion of Kirkwall, along with his friends Anders, Varric Tethras, and Merrill.", he said with a slight smile. His captain had been infatuated with the tails of the exploits of Hawke, written by Varric Tethras.

"Maker's breath… You're joking.", she said, her jaw dropping and her eyes getting even wider.

"If I remember correctly Varric, don't you always say something when you pull your crossbow?", Adahlen asked? His captain had forced him to read, and practically memorize the Legend of Hawke.

"Do you mean 'Say hello, Bianca' or is there another one?", the dwarf said pulling out his one of a kind, repeating crossbow, which made a distinctive sound as the bow arms came back. Valkyria just stood there gaping.

"So Adahlen, may I speak with you?", Hawke said, more telling than asking. Adahlen nodded and they walked into one of the tents as Valkyria sat next to Varric and began to marvel at his crossbow.

Once they were inside, it was apparent that this was Hawke's personal tent. There were many symbols embroidered into it, it was larger, and had many collections of weapons and armor. There was also a desk, or at least it appeared so from beneath the masses of parchments, vellums, books, and letters. Hawke sat there and motioned for Adahlen to sit down on a folding chair that was in the corner. Hawke also pointed towards his bed, pointing out that there was another occupant and to be quiet. The other occupant was named Isabela, previously Captain Isabela, a former pirate of the Waking and Amaranthine Seas. The Legend mentioned that Hawke had fallen in love with a bronzed, roguish women who loved to challenge others to a duel.

"Adahlen, I know this may be a lot to ask for, but I could really use the help of someone as talented as yourself. The whole of Thedas is having a shadow cast over it, much larger than this mage rebellion going on. My point is that I need someone like you.", Hawke asked.

"Why do you just want me instead the whole of my Legions?", Adahlen asked, not that he was offering.

"Your Legions are doing good throughout all of Thedas, and they are too large of a group for what our task is. But you, Serah, would be immensely helpful, and I feel that you could be a great aspect. Besides, think of us as a small unit of the Legion operating towards the true objective."

Adahlen pondered this. The Mage Rebellion was one of the biggest happenings since the Qunari Invasion and the Fifth Blight. What could be more earth shattering to Thedas than that? Whatever it was, it couldn't be good, and he felt he needed to aid this band of heroes.

"Very well, I accept. But before I can join you, I want to make sure these Legionnaires recover. also need to transfer immediate command of the Legion.", Adahlen said. He and Hawke then stood up and exited the tent.

Outside, Valkyria had managed to get most of her armor on, with the exception of her helmet that sat on the ground by her foot. She was now sitting between Varric, Anders, and Merrill. They then approached the four merry people by the fire.

"Captain Valkyria! Front and center!", Adahlen called out. At this, the laughter died down, but only the smile on Valkyria vanished. She grabbed her helmet, and then ran and stood before her commander.

"Take a knee Captain.", he ordered and she did. "Captain Valkyria of the First Phalanx, Third Cohort, First Legion. I hereby bestow upon you, with the authority of Commander of the Legions, the First Banner of the Legion.", As he said this he removed his cloak, exposing on the underside a very worn symbol of the Legions. "May the all members of the Six, and all their allies, heed your orders as my own. You are to be for the Six as the Centurion is for his Phalanx. You will make the immediate, reactionary decisions while I am away, but you are to carry out any orders that are to be sent to you.", Adahlen spoke these words as he clasped the worn cloak onto the soldier before him. "Ascendatte(Arise).", he commanded, and she rose to her feet. "Remember, as the Six serve their commander, so to does the the commander serve the Six. I hereby appoint you as The Master of the Six. Now go and rest, you will need to for tomorrow as you and your Legionnaires return to the encampment."

"Sir, what's going on? Are you leaving us? Are you dying?" Valkyria asked, not sure why she had been promoted.

"No, I am not dying, but I will temporarily be leaving in order to join with Hawke for a little while. There is some business we must attend to." he answered.

"If I might ask Commander-"

"You are now a Commander, Valkyria, we are equals" Adahlen interupted, trying to get her used to being an equal to him.

"Very well ser, but why are you leaving? With mages fighting with templars, and innocents caught in the middle, we need you now more than ever." Valkyria said, it would be hard for her to get used to being on the same level as her mentor.

"Valkyria," Adahlen said with a chuckle, "there are going to be times where I cannot hold your hand through every situation. There is an issue that I must see to personally, and I shall return when it is finished. Until then, simply follow the orders I give to you. Now get some sleep. Tomorrow, we break camp and move for Perniger Arcem."

With that, Valkyria bowed before Adahlen, and then left to return to her tent. Adahlen just stood there, and, after moving to stand by the fire and converse with his now companions, he felt the rain begin to fall. He heard the distant booms of thunder, and merely let the rain fall on him, letting it wash his clothes and himself. After the rain put out the fire, he returned to his tent to discover that there was another occupant in this room as well. After his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could make out the distinct look of pointy, elvhen ears and noticed a familiar scarf around the person's neck. He was bunking with Merrill, and Adahlen didn't yet know if that was a good or bad thing.

~Thank you for reading this story. Please feel free to make comments and give any constructive criticism.


	2. Forging Bonds

Thank you everyone who is reading and enjoying these writings! I wanna apologize for how slow this chapter has taken. I've been in the middle of a play and I've been very busy. If you guys would like to please comment or review this, I'd love any feedback.

Morning came and Merrill awoke almost an hour after sunrise, hair strewn about and in a wild state. Her eyes were still partially closed, still clearing out the early morning grogginess that she felt most every day. She was just coming to when she heard steel clashing outside. This brought her fully awake, as she thought this meant that the camp was under attack. She shot up off her cot, and grabbed her staff. Her staff was the one Keeper Marethari used, the Torch of Falon'Din. After grabbing her staff, she then ran outside of her tent, looking for where the sounds of clashing metal came from. In fact, it came from in front of her.

There, kneeling next to the now roaring campfire, was Adahlen. He was wearing his boots and his muddied black pants, but his tunic was hanging on a tree branch. He stood next to an anvil, wielding a smith's hammer in his right hand, and a pair of smith's tongs in his left. He continuously swung the hammer, and pounded on the metal which he held in the tongs. Beads of sweat were all over his body, as the campfire was now as large as the tents the company slept in. Merrill stared and and was in awe. Adahlen appeared to be almost a wraith, only his silhouette could be seen. The heat created a wavy mirage effect, adding to the phantasmal appearance. Finally, with a final pound of his hammer, Adahlen relaxed and set his hammer down. He then grabbed onto the tang of his creation, a large hand-and-a-half sword. The metal then began to freeze and temper. He then reached into a leather pouch at the small of his back, and pulled from it a piece of metal and slid it over the tang of the sword. He then put the palm of his hand over the pommel, picked up his hammer, and lightly tapped on the end a few times.

He took the sword, gleaming silver like the moon on a pitch dark night, and swung it in repetitive patterns, alternating between one and two handed swings. He then paused, and turned to face to roaring fire. He raised his hand to the fire, and to Merrill's amazement, the fire stopped moving. It was still glowing with light, but it ceased to move and give off heat. Then, with a quick and powerful sweep, Adahlen's sword shattered it as if it were glass. The shards turned to vapor as they fell, and then the camp was overcome with a thick fog.

Merrill was astonished. "What just happened?", she asked, "Adahlen?" There was no reply. "Hello? Adahlen?", she said as she began to walk into the mist. "What was that noisy thing that just happened?" She came closer to the edge of the campfire. She came to the ring of the fire, or at least the final area where the bonfire she had earlier witnessed ended. Before her the ground was blackened with soot, like the areas near Kirkwall's foundries. Merrill gingerly reached in and gently touched the ground with her bare foot. Some of the soot rose from the ground, but sank again like a gentle, tarnished snowfall. Slowly she progressed further in, her feet turning black from the soot. She still held on to her staff, although she held it in a relaxed manner. Finally, she came the ring of stones that were the original ring for the fire, and she saw Adahlen kneeling amongst the ashes.

"Adahlen?", she said, trying to be cautious and not interrupting. Adahlen knelt there, his boots, pants, and tunic turning blackish grey where it touched the ground. Finally, he stood and turned to Merrill. She expected to see a stern look, or a blank face like those of the Tranquil, but she did not expect a small smile from him.

"I'm sorry Merrill, I hope I did not wake you up, I must have forgotten to enchant our tent.", he said. He still held his sword in his hand, which he quickly sheathed, before walking a little closer to Merrill.

"What was that?", Merrill asked, referring to the almost mystical spectacle she had witnessed. She was still in awe. Her first thoughts of course were as to the nature of what had just happened. Her second thought, being after all female, was trying to identify the feelings she was experiencing now. She felt giddy, almost like when she first came to Kirkwall, but there were also other feelings too. Nervousness? Excitement? Confusion? She could not sort out her mind right now.

"That? Oh that was nothing.", he said, "I just needed to procure a weapon so I could be a useful member of the group, and so I forged it from the shards of my staff."

There they were again. The thousands of words swimming in her head that she couldn't sort out.

"I'm sure you'd be very helpful, even without your sword. Not that you won't be useful now! Oh I'm sorry, I'm making a mess of things, and babbling. Let's wake the others up.", Merrill said. Babbling was normal for her, but she had been doing better at being more focused and less tactless. Adahlen just chuckled at this and began walking towards a tent.

"You'll need to dispell the enchantment, but it shouldn't be too hard. Just a simple dispel should work.", Adahlen said to her, and he raised his hand to the tent. There was a slight glow then given off by the tent, before a quick, almost explosive sound. Then the tent returned to a normal appearance. He then turned to her and said, "See? Easy." Merrill nodded and then Adahlen turned to their tent. "I must get into my armor now, could you finish the other tents?" Merrill nodded and Adahlen entered their tent. Inside, he attached his breastplate and pauldrons first. His boots already were faced with the black armor that matched the rest of his suit. Once the breastplate and the pauldrons were on, he began to put on his gauntlets and bracers.

Outside, Merrill stood before another tent. Merrill was never good at dispelling magic, Hawke and Anders always took care of that as did Carver now, whom the Grey Wardens had given Templar training to. Merrill only knew one way to dispel magic. She pulled out a knife and held it to the underside of her forearm. She slowly drew it across her skin and she began to bleed. From the blood rose magical strength. As she then directed her powers to dispel the magic, one could hear whispers from where Merrill stood. Not hers, but those of demons, calling for her to summon them into the world. They promised her power above any of her peers, or to recreate an elvhen kingdom, but Merrill always knew never to bind words with demons. She continued on with dispelling the magic.

Adahlen exited the tent some time later, arrayed in chainmail, his obsidian steel armor, and his new sword at his side. The mist from his forging had cleared now, and a new fire was in place amidst the circle of stones. Above the fire was a deer, roasting for breakfast. Hawke and several others were setting up tables and benches.

Aveline Vallen, Captain of the Kirkwall Guard was one of them. According to the stories written by Varric, she had come with Hawke to Kirkwall from Lothering, during the Fifth Blight. She was an officer in Fereldan's army, and had risen through the ranks of the Guards and became Captain of the Guard after exposing the previous Captain of conspiring with criminal gangs and took his job.

Carver Hawke, of the Grey Wardens, was Garrett Hawke's younger brother. He had joined the Grey Wardens after becoming infected with the Blight on the expedition that would acquire the profits to make the Hawkes wealthy nobles. He rejoined his brother during the Mage Uprising in Kirkwall, and has been on leave from the Wardens since.

Isabela, formerly Captain of The Pearl, was once a notorious pirate of the Waking and Amaranthine Seas. She met Hawke while being hunted by two groups. The Qunari hunted her for having stolen a sacred text, known as the Tome of Koslun. A wealthy man named Castillon hunted her down because she lost the tome while in transit from having stolen the tome to delivering it to him. Amidst the adventures, Hawke(the name people use when referring to Garrett) and Isabella fell into a romantic relationship.

Away by the roasting deer were other people. Varric, of the noble house Tethras, was the younger brother of Bartrand Tethras, an important man in the dwarven Merchant's Guild whom sealed Varric, Hawke, Carver, and Anders in a Primeval Thaig to steal all the profits of the expedition. He took with him a lyrium statue that altered his mind and drove him mad. Varric eventually killed him. Varric was a renowned storyteller, who managed to rub shoulders with society's elites, and some of society's scoundrels. He never let his crossbow, Bianca, the masterwork of an ingenious dwarven master smith, leave his side.

Then there was Fenris, a former elvhen slave to a Tevinter magister. He had strange markings branded onto him, unlike Merrill's tribal tattoos. The stories say that the markings are made of lyrium that were branded into him by his former master. The markings gave him incredible strength, speed, and could turn him into an ætherial fighter. However, the markings came with a price. Fenris has no memories from before being branded with the markings, and the bits of his past he did know were told to him by his former master and a long lost sister he who betrayed him. He always harbored hatred and resentment for mages after seeing how Tevinter's corrupted magisters abuse their power.

Adahlen had also seen Valkyria walk into her tent where the other Legionnaires rested, but he failed to see his young friend, Merrill. He knew she was not in their tent, since he had just come from there. He was about to continue on until he heard a sharp intake of breath, as if someone were feeling a sharp pain, from behind the tent. Adahlen glanced around, wondering if anyone else had heard, but they appeared oblivious. He turned back to where the sound came from, and then walked to investigate. He peaked from around the corner, and saw Merrill, kneeling on the ground, her left arm covered with blood, trying to wrap it with leaves.

"What happened to you?", Adahlen asked, giving Merrill a shock that made her jump to her feet, her eyes wide with fright. "Were you attacked? What happened?", he asked and taking a step toward her. She tried to hide her arm behind her back, and winced in pain.

"Oh no, it's nothing really. I just uh… slipped while taking a walk in the trees and uh… struck my arm on a sharp stone. I'm fine.", Merrill said, rambling and flustered. However, it wasn't like her normal fluster, her pale cheeks turning pink. This time her skin went even paler.

"Here, let me help you. Let me see your arm.", Adahlen said, holding out his hand. Merrill looked at the palm of his hand, sheathed by his gauntlet. It was a smooth, black leather glove, with designs embroidered in it with red silk thread, namely the emblem of the Legion. Merril, in a defeated state, as if she had been caught in the midst of doing something bad, placed her arm in his and removed the leaf. Blood still flowed down her arm, and Adahlen could tell that the wound was not that of a rock, because the cut was too clean and neat. Still he took his other hand and placed it on top of her smarting wound. She winced, and tensed up.

"Please relax, I promise that this will help.", Adahlen said. Slowly, as best she could, Merrill relaxed. Adahlen drew his focus, and green and blue light began to shine from under his hand. The pain began to fade away as Adahlen used his healing magic, and Merrill eventually was able to completely relax. The light then began to fade away, and once it was gone, Adahlen removed his hand and reached into his leather pouch on his back and withdrew a linen bandage and was trying to mop up the blood left on her arm. "There. All better.", he said with a small smile.

"Ma serannas lethallin(Thank you friend). I'm so sorry that you had to bother with my clumsiness.", Merrill said as the gauzey bandage was brushed across her arm. "I'll try to be more careful in the future."

"It's no bother, and if you do get hurt again, come see me. I'll take care of it.", Adahlen said. "Now let's go and eat before we strike the camp."

He removed his hand from holding up Merrill's arm burnt the bloody fabric in his hand. Merrill looked at her arm, at the place where she had slit her arm. Now there was just a pink line, a scar that looked weeks old. She pulled the sleeve of her chainmail jacket down and started fitting on her leather gauntlets. Adahlen allowed the bandage to burn in his hand, the flame now dying and being sustained as a small flame and embers. When the flame had died, Adahlen placed the ashes on the ground and stomped out the embers. The two soon appeared, and were hailed by their friends. The venison was almost ready, and then they would strike camp.

"Hawke!" called Adahlen while sitting at a bench, gesturing for him to come over. Hawke came and sat beside him. "Hawke, we are still going to escort my Legionnaires back, yes?"

"I was planning to, yes." Hawke said.

"If I may also suggest, perhaps we should escort them back to the Legion's home fortress, near the Green Dales, past Starkhaven. It should only be an extra day travel or two at most. We could also re-stock, resupply, and upgrade or arms and armour."

"I don't see any problem with that. We'll set out once we've stripped the camp."

"Hawke," Aveline said, "I wanted to mention this sooner, but I must return to Kirkwall. The city guard have been leaderless for almost a month now, they need me. And if Sebastian really plans to assault Kirkwall, then I must return soon."

"I'm sorry to hear that, but its alright. You don't need my permission to leave." Hawke said smiling, trying to be friendly about it.

"Hawke, I also feel I must leave.", said Fenris, "I have received word that Tevinter slavers are coming south, trying to prey on the refugees of this war."

"Brother, I received word that the Wardens are summoning me back, official Grey Warden business. I'm sorry, I can't say more."

"I see." Hawke said, his voice now lower, almost disappointed. "Will anyone else be leaving?"

"Sweety," Isabela said, "You know I don't want to leave you, but I can't take much more of this 'hiding in the woods' pariah-hood. I need to get back out on the sea, back with the raiders. I want to come, but for both our sanity, I need to get back out there."

"Hawke, I'm staying with you." said Varric, "They'd have to drag me away from you."

"You have my sword." Adahlen said.

"I'll stay with you. I love the adventures we go on together!" said Merrill, very enthusiastically.

"Very well," Hawke said, "May the Maker watch over us all."


End file.
